


Breakpoint

by Jessepinwheel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, M/M, enemies to lovers speedrun, wow obi-wan how come you get two boyfriends?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27464689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessepinwheel/pseuds/Jessepinwheel
Summary: "Obi-Wan, did you bring a Darksider into your home?""Hm," Obi-Wan says, in that way he does when he's trying to think of a way to spin things to make them sound a lot less terrible than they actually are. "Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that."Or: Maul wants revenge on Kenobi at all costs. Bail wants Obi-Wan to stop doing stupidly reckless things. Obi-Wan is just doing his own thing.
Relationships: Bail Organa/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Bail Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul
Comments: 194
Kudos: 423





	1. In Which Maul Completely Fails To Murder Obi-Wan

**Author's Note:**

> A breakpoint is a place in a program where all processes are intentionally paused, usually for debugging purposes.
> 
> Yes, you read the tags right. This is the only type of shipping fic I'll ever write, i.e., because it's hilarious.
> 
> I'm committing the greatest sin of not having this entire story written out before I start posting it but since it's pretty short and it's also basically crack, I'm pretty whatever about that. No idea what my posting schedule will be. Once or twice a week maybe? Have fun :)

_Kill Obi-Wan Kenobi._

Maul stalks through the grimy streets of Coruscant, his mechanical legs creaking and groaning under each step. They are, at this point, held together more through spite and the Force than the durasteel they're made of, but it doesn't matter. He keeps moving anyways because it's the only way he'll finally get his revenge on that _Jedi._

It's the only thing he wants now. Once, he had ambitions of inheriting the mantle of Sith Lord, but now, reduced to nothing by a mere _Padawan,_ he burns only for Kenobi's downfall. He's dreamt of it night after night for years, but now, on the Jedi's home planet, it is finally within reach.

It hadn't been easy to track down Kenobi. He is a difficult Jedi to find, with his hypocritical warmongering and constant missions, but even a Jedi so exemplary and disgustingly _devout_ must return to the Temple at times to rest. A reliable source has informed him that Kenobi is finally back in Coruscant for a tenday. More than enough time to deal with the Jedi as he sees fit.

Maul casts his senses out into the Force, searching for Kenobi. It's more difficult than it should be--though the Force here on Coruscant is Dark from his Master's influence, grown powerful after so many years of cultivation and Sidious's new war, there are so many people that even the bright Light of a Jedi is obscured.

No matter. He is patient. He has waited twelve long years for his revenge, and he can wait a little more. It is not as though he will not pay back his pain many times over the moment he gets his hands on that _Jedi._ Yes, when he is done with Kenobi, a swift death will be a mercy.

He will _relish_ Kenobi's broken expression when he cannot receive even that.

It is in the Senate district where he finally tracks Kenobi down. The man looks like he does in the holos--stereotypical Jedi robes and reddish hair cropped short with a side-swept fringe and a full beard. Seeing him up close, he is not so impressive. His presence in the Force is not exceptionally powerful, nor does it feel intensely Light. It is quiet and soft and _weak,_ and it disgusts Maul to think that _this_ is the man who brought him down.

Kenobi exits that ostentatious enormous apartment building with usual Jedi fluidity and is followed out by a taller and wealthier man--a Senator, most likely, or someone just as influential. Kenobi seems to have some significant affection for the man, and it's tempting to kill the Senator then and there just to see how Kenobi would react, but Maul stays his hand. He will only have one chance to attack, and he must use it to capture Kenobi. He cannot afford distractions at this juncture.

Kenobi kisses the other man on the cheek and exchanges some words. The whole tableau is so saccharine it makes Maul want to gag. Eventually, thankfully, Kenobi leaves. Maul trails him.

Maul bides his time, tossing his blade from one hand to the other--not a lightstaff, after his old one was destroyed and he wasn't able to find components to rebuild it, but something just as usable--a beskar alloy blade with cortosis weave. Short, but effective to disarm a Jedi. Without a lightsaber, Kenobi is helpless--what would he do, use the Force? As if his meager Light would even stand a chance against Maul's rage.

It takes four and a half blocks until Kenobi reaches a place that is narrow enough and secluded enough for an attack. Maul seizes the opportunity.

At this moment, his mechanical legs malfunction.

They fold beneath him, completely collapsing from wear and fatigue, and his slash at Kenobi's back falls laughably short. To add insult to injury, Kenobi catches him before he hits the ground.

"Oh dear, are you all right?" Kenobi says, and it occurs to Maul that he has never actually heard Kenobi's speaking voice before. It's smooth with a distinct Core accent--not at all unpleasant, from a purely auditory standpoint.

Before Maul realizes it, Kenobi has pulled the knife from his hand and helped him up to his feet--though it doesn't help much, since his legs are completely shot. He feels Kenobi's hands under his arms like a hot brand, and his face is _so close_ now that it would be the easiest thing in the world to reach out and _strangle_ him--

"--happened? Are you hurt?" Kenobi asks, still helping him to stand. "If you need help, I can bring you to a medcenter. Is there anyone I should contact?"

He looks and sounds so genuinely concerned that Maul has a sudden realization:

Kenobi doesn't recognize him.

The thought is so absurd it's unbelievable--how _could_ Kenobi forget him? He had slaughtered the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, _his Master,_ right in front of him. He had heard Kenobi scream in despair, and they had clashed in their rage, and Kenobi had cleaved him in two.

How could he _not_ recognize the man whose life he had destroyed? The Sith he had cast down into hell and who had clawed the long way back up for revenge? By all rights, he should be the _most important_ person in Kenobi's life. _He_ is the pivot around which Kenobi's life turned, from his Master's death to his Knighthood to his Padawan.

How could Kenobi have the audacity to forget him?

"Ah, hello?" Kenobi says, sounding even _more_ concerned than before, if that's even possible. "Can you hear me? Do you speak Basic?"

"Yes, I speak Basic," Maul snarls.

Kenobi smiles. "Oh, lovely. I don't know if you heard me earlier--do you need help getting somewhere? You look hurt."

"I don't need help from the likes of you," Maul starts to say when his legs creak again and practically disintegrate beneath him. Excruciating pain shoots up his spine from his trash legs and he falls straight into Kenobi's chest.

Kenobi holds him firmly against robes that are...very soft and reaches out to him through the Force, a gentle probing touch that leaches away the worst of the pain. Without meaning to, Maul leans into the touch--physical and psychic alike.

He opens his mouth to curse Kenobi for this ultimate disrespect, and instead promptly and unceremoniously passes out in Kenobi's arms.

* * *

Maul wakes to the smell of clean linen. He is on something soft, he is not restrained in any way, and he...is not in pain. He sits up and finds that his legs have been replaced with ones that are not literal garbage.

What the hell?

He looks around and finds he is in some sort of bedroom. It is clean and mostly bare, with an empty desk and shelf and wardrobe. Someone has put him on a bed with a set of floral-printed blankets. Sunlight is filtering through the bedroom window, bright enough that it is probably around midday.

Again. What the hell.

There's a soft knock at the door. After a moment, it swings open and _Kenobi_ is in the doorway, smiling softly.

That smile is so disgusting it makes Maul's stomach turn. He looks away.

"Good morning, dear," Kenobi says, entering the room and pulling up a chair to sit next to the bed. He smells like a teahouse--not just tea, but wood and plants and clean cloth as well. "You slept almost two days. How are you feeling?"

Maul growls in lieu of a response. Kenobi may have captured him, but if he thinks that entitles him to _conversation,_ he is sorely mistaken.

Kenobi sighs. "Well, if you're curious--and I imagine you must be--you are in the Jedi Temple right now. After you collapsed, I brought you to the Halls of Healing. I thought, since you were Force-sensitive and you collapsed in Coruscant, you might be at risk for psychic damage, but fortunately that didn't seem to be the case. After the Healers gave you treatment and repaired your legs, we tried to find any family or other contacts we could return you to, but couldn't find any records for you. I offered to keep you under observation in my own quarters, which is where we currently are."

Seriously? Maul looks around again at the very empty bedroom. If this is where Kenobi lives, he's even more pathetic than previously thought.

Kenobi chuckles. "Don't worry. This isn't my room--this one is typically meant for a Padawan, but since I've only moved in recently, nobody's used it." He clasps his hands in his lap. "I hope you don't find it too presumptuous that I brought you here without asking--when you were recovering, you seemed to have a bad reaction when I wasn't nearby. I can't imagine why you would be attached to me specifically, except that I brought you to the Halls, but it seemed prudent not to test anything while you were still unconscious. You were in pretty bad condition when I brought you in--it seems you've been through some very hard times."

Maul opens his mouth to retort about exactly _whose_ fault it is that he's been through very hard times, but all that comes out is a set of wheezing coughs.

"Oh, darling, be careful. You're still not fully recovered," Kenobi says, steadying him with a gentle but firm hand against his back. "The healers say you'll need a few more days of rest before you can do anything more than light activity. Here, do you need some water?"

Kenobi pulls a water bottle from _somewhere_ and offers it to Maul.

Maul _is_ thirsty. He takes the bottle and uncaps it, then sniffs it suspiciously. It seems to be completely normal water, so he takes a drink. It's so cool and clean it's almost sweet, and he drinks the entire bottle in one go. It's...nice.

"There you go." Kenobi takes the empty bottle back. "And if you feel up for it, I'm cooking some stew that should be done in twenty minutes or so--I didn't know when you would wake up. Do you have a name, dear? It didn't look like you had any sort of ID on you."

Maul blinks at Kenobi. He's been given food, water, and medical assistance--it's like they're not even _trying_ to imprison him. Surely the Jedi aren't _actually_ this dumb?

Kenobi seems to interpret his bafflement for reticence, because he says, "Oh, I'm sorry. Where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm a Jedi here, though you might have guessed that already."

"I know who you are," Maul says. His voice is a little hoarse, but it doesn't hurt to speak. "What do you plan to do with me, Kenobi?"

"Well, I was hoping we could figure that out together, now that you're awake," Kenobi replies. "If you want, you can stay here with me or in the Halls until you're fully recovered, or someone can take you to wherever you need to be--whether that's home or with a friend."

"I have nowhere to be," Maul says.

Kenobi nods slowly. "All right. In that case, we can help you figure out some new arrangements. With the war, many Core worlds have developed very robust refugee asylum programs. Until you've made your decision, you can stay here."

Maul pauses. He's pretty sure he didn't hear that right. "Stay here? With you?"

"If you want," Kenobi says. "I'm not in Coruscant very often these days, and I never had an opportunity to properly move into these rooms, so this is hardly an exciting place to be, but if you would like to stay here then I would be honored to have you, dear."

"Maul."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Maul," Maul says. "Not 'dear'."

Kenobi smiles so brightly that Maul has to avert his eyes again. "Of course, Maul. I need to go check on lunch, but if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."

With that and little more than a swish of his robes, Kenobi leaves. Maul sits on his little bed and grips the edge of his floral-printed blanket, thoughts whirling.

He's pretty sure this isn't happening. He's _pretty_ sure he's having some kind of fever dream. Maybe he's contracted some kind of horrible infection on Lotho Minor and he's currently hallucinating while lying in a pile of trash, because that's _way_ more believable than the idea that Kenobi is cooking him lunch in his house in the Jedi Temple, calling him pet names.

Fuck. Aren't Jedi supposed to good at sensing the Dark Side? Well, that's a stupid question--they're obviously not, because they haven't figured Sidious out after all these years, but still. Who in their right mind sees a passed-out person with a knife and takes them home _just because?_ Is that a Jedi thing? Or is Kenobi just insane?

Okay, well. Assuming he is currently _not_ having a horrible fever dream and he really _did_ fuck up that revenge attempt _that_ badly, maybe this is still salvageable. He's closer to Kenobi than he's ever been before--the man sleeps literally one room over. Murdering him is now easier than ever.

But is that good enough? Kenobi deserves much worse than a simple death for all the suffering he has caused. He deserves to be torn in two, to face utter despair and _wish_ he was dead. Only when he has suffered so deeply so as to break completely will that be satisfactory.

Perhaps he can torment Kenobi with the Dark Side--haunt his dreams and drag him slowly into despair. He is only a Jedi, after all--it'll be easy to break his spirit. That'll be a good start.

At that moment, Kenobi reappears in the doorway with a ladle in his hand. "Maul, I've finished cooking," he says. "Do you think you can walk, or should I bring you a bowl here?"

Slowly, Maul gets out of bed. His repaired legs move so smoothly that they almost feel slippery, and he stumbles on his way up. Kenobi reaches out to help him, but Maul holds up a hand. "I can walk on my own, Jedi."

Kenobi nods and steps back. "Very well. Food is on the table--I hope you'll enjoy it. And while you eat, perhaps you can tell me a bit more about yourself? I'd like to get to know you better while you're here."

Suddenly, an idea forms. If Kenobi is so determined to be _friends,_ then why not oblige? It's a long game, but Maul has waited this long already--he can wait a little longer. He can be the _best_ of friends, and if he can convince Kenobi to trust him with that bleeding heart of his, then all the better to _tear it out_. Betrayal will break Kenobi the way no torture can.

It is a perfect plan. There is no way it can possibly go wrong.


	2. In Which Bail Meets And Has Opinions On Obi-Wan's New Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bail meets Maul. First impressions leave a little something to be desired.

It's early evening, right after sunset, when Bail arrives at the Jedi Temple. He doesn't generally come here--his apartment in 500 Republica is larger and more suited for overnight guests, so Obi-Wan tends to visit him more than the other way around, but it's not like there's anything wrong with the Jedi Temple. It's a beautiful place with a rich history and culture and it's calm the way no other place in Coruscant can be. Just stepping through the arches makes him feel at peace.

This is the first chance he's had to visit Obi-Wan's new apartment--the man had moved out of the old one after Anakin had gotten a Padawan of his own. From what Obi-Wan has said, he hasn't really had a chance to settle in. With the war going on, there simply hasn't been the time.

With the war going on, there isn't time for a lot of things anymore.

He makes his way up the turbolift and down the wide corridors. It's quiet--quieter than usual. Even from so short a visit it's obvious that the Temple is emptier than it's ever been, and he tries not to think too hard about why.

He nods hello to the few Jedi he passes, and they seem surprised to see him. That's reasonable enough--it's not often that those without the Force ever enter the Temple. He follows signs down the residential wing, until he reaches a door with a small engraved plaque reading "KENOBI, O." in neat letters.

He rings the bell. Inside, he can hear the muffled buzzer.

Only a few moments pass before the door swishes open, revealing a red Zabrak with black tattoos. The Zabrak does not look very happy, and he is also wearing no pants. The...impropriety of that is slightly mitigated by the fact that he is robotic from the waist down.

Bail has never seen this man in his life.

"Hello," Bail says after an awkward pause.

"What do you want?" the Zabrak asks.

"I'm here to see Master Kenobi," Bail replies.

"What for?"

"There are a few bills Master Kenobi expressed interest in learning more details about, so we agreed to discuss it over dinner tonight." That is, of course, not the full story, but what he and Obi-Wan do in their private time is nobody's business but their own.

The Zabrak looks at him up and down slowly, then says, "He's not here. Go away."

Bail knows for a fact that Obi-Wan is here--he literally commed him five minutes ago, during which Obi-Wan said he was in his rooms and would be ready to go to dinner when he arrived.

"Well," Bail says slowly, "if he stepped out for a bit, then I am perfectly willing to wait until he returns."

The Zabrak's eyes narrow. "Kenobi's busy. Go away."

What is he even supposed to say to that?

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Bail asks. "Does Master Kenobi know you're in his home?"

The Zabrak opens his mouth to respond when Bail hears Obi-Wan's voice from further in, shouting, "Maul? Is that Bail at the door? Tell him I'll be out in a minute!"

The Zabrak scowls, then looks back at Bail. "Kenobi says he will be out in a minute."

"Yes, thank you," Bail says dryly.

The Zabrak then proceeds to _not_ invite Bail in, instead staring intensely at him in complete silence. It is, to say the least, extremely disquieting, and not just because of the Zabrak's red-and-gold eyes. Who even is this 'Maul' character? Obi-Wan seems to know he's here, but surely he isn't a Jedi--he has no lightsaber and a Jedi should, at minimum, know to wear pants when they answer the door.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Obi-Wan makes an appearance. His hair has been freshly combed and his beard recently trimmed and his robes and tabards are neat and clean like any Jedi Master's should be. He looks wonderful, as he always does.

Obi-Wan smiles. "Bail, darling. Sorry for the delay. Are you ready to go?"

Bail reaches out to take his hand. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Very well," Obi-Wan says. To Maul, he says, "I'll be back later tonight. Don't exert yourself too much, okay?"

"I will be fine," Maul says. "Go...do whatever you are doing."

Without so much as a goodbye, Maul closes the door in their faces.

"Charming fellow," Bail says.

Obi-Wan sighs. "I'm really sorry about him. I'm working on the manners thing, but I'm not sure he completely grasps politeness as a concept."

The two of them make their way towards the speeder bay.

"Who is he? Why is he in your apartment?"

Obi-Wan chuckles softly. "It's a bit of a funny story, actually."

Bail tactfully does not say anything, because a 'funny story' coming from Obi-Wan can mean anything from 'I misplaced a tin of tea' to 'I broke both my legs jumping out the window of a skyscraper'.

This is probably more of the latter case.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm not that bad," Obi-Wan says.

"I didn't say anything," Bail replies.

"You wanted to," Obi-Wan says. "Anyways, I ran into Maul after I left your place a few days ago. He wasn't in very good shape--he passed out right on top of me."

"So you brought him back home? Obi-Wan, did you _kidnap_ him?"

"No, Bail. I did not _kidnap_ Maul. He was, as I said, in very poor condition--his legs were completely falling apart. I realized he was Force-sensitive, so I brought him to the Halls of Healing just in case." Obi-Wan shrugs. "I've been helping him get back to full health since then, and I'm hoping we'll figure out where he can go next. He doesn't seem to have anywhere to stay."

"I...see," Bail says. "Well, not to question your judgement--"

"Oh, feel free to question my judgement. That's what friends are for, dear," Obi-Wan replies.

"In that case, I _strongly_ question your judgement in bringing a man you've never met and don't know anything about into your personal living space. He could be dangerous."

"He is almost definitely dangerous," Obi-Wan says. "Like I said, he's Force-sensitive, and I confiscated a very high-quality knife from him. I'm quite sure he knows how to use it."

Bail takes a deep breath and tries not to think too hard about what's happening to his blood pressure right now. "You were assaulted by a man with a knife and you decided to _bring that man home with you?"_

A passing pair of Knights shoot the two of them concerned looks, which Obi-Wan deftly waves off with a disarming smile.

"Well, if the local gossip mill wasn't already going, it certainly will now," Obi-Wan says as he calls the turbolift. "Thanks for that, Bail."

Bail sighs deeply, then lowers his voice and says, "Obi-Wan, I love you, but _why_ did you think any of this was a good idea?"

"Did I _say_ he assaulted me? You're jumping to conclusions, dear," Obi-Wan replies in that prim and proper way he does to make himself sound like the most reasonable person in the room even when what's actually coming out of his mouth is completely insane. "I said he had a knife and passed out on me. If that was an assault attempt, it wasn't a very good one."

"That's no reason to trust him in your living quarters alone! Do you even _know_ anything about Maul?"

"Well, he's a Nightbrother--a Zabrak from Dathomir. It's the reason for his coloring and the tattoos. Other than that, nothing more than speculation. He hasn't explained much of his past to me."

Bail closes his eyes. He doesn't know _that_ much about every obscure planet on the Outer Rim, but he's heard stories about Dathomir at least--there's allegedly witches living there, with powers that are strong enough and vile enough to make most travelers give it a wide berth. After what he and Obi-Wan have experienced with regards to the Dark Side, it's not so hard to believe there's more truth to the stories than previously assumed.

"Aren't Nightbrothers...Dark?" Bail asks.

"That's what our Archives report," Obi-Wan says. "My personal experience says the same, but of course, I've only ever met one Nightbrother. That's hardly a representative sample size."

The turbolift comes to a stop on the speeder bay level. Bail pulls Obi-Wan along with a tug at the elbow.

"Obi-Wan, did you bring a Darksider into your home?"

"Hm," Obi-Wan says, in that way he does when he's trying to think of a way to spin things to make them sound a lot less terrible than they actually are. "Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that."

"What _possible_ way can you say it where it _doesn't_ sound bad?"

Obi-Wan obviously decides to take this as a challenge. "Well, we don't arrest people just for being Dark--that's practically arresting them for having bad thoughts, whatever that arbitrarily means, and I think we can all agree that that's not acceptable conduct. We can only intervene to stop Dark _action,_ which Maul has not committed since I met him a few days ago, and which we have no reason to believe he's committed except based on his origins, which is _extraordinarily_ unfair. Like I said, he _collapsed_ on me--even if he was holding a knife at the time, I can't reasonably say that's an assault."

"You definitely _can,_ " Bail interjects.

"And since then, he's been civil. He _is_ hurt, so it's only right to give him medical assistance. Until we know better if he is actually dangerous, it seems like a good idea to keep him under watch by a Jedi Master like myself. That way, if he becomes violent, I'll be the only one in danger, and I can certainly defend myself better than most."

"Please tell me you put a Force suppressing cuff on him or something."

Obi-Wan doesn't respond, which is answer enough.

Bail stops walking. "Obi-Wan, why is it that every time I talk to you, I can feel myself going gray?"

"Look," Obi-Wan says reasonably, "bringing Maul into the Temple and having him wake up with Force suppressants would firstly be detrimental to his recovery, and secondly be a huge sign of bad faith when we have no proof of wrongdoing. At that point we might as well tell him we expect violence, and that's not fair to him. It's not as if I've left him completely loose in my quarters--everything sensitive is in my cabin in the Negotiator and there's hardly anything in there he can use as a weapon except maybe one of the saucepans. Maul's supposed to stay in my rooms until he's at least recovered, and until then there's a small guard rotation of Shadows to make sure he doesn't run off and do anything untowards."

"And how, exactly, do you expect to make sure Maul continues to be on his best behavior even after he's recovered?" Bail asks. "For all you know, he's waiting for you to lower your guard to stab you in the back."

"Well, I was hoping my charm and glowing personality might convince him to not do that," Obi-Wan says. "But if he does, it is hardly the first time I have been bitten by someone I was trying to help. I'll be fine."

"Oh, _Obi-Wan..._ " Bail says.

Obi-Wan smiles and leans in to press a soft kiss to Bail's jaw. "You don't need to worry about me, Bail. I have everything handled."

"I know you do--you always do, but I worry about you anyways. I hate that you're constantly getting into the kind of trouble I can't help you with," Bail says, pulling Obi-Wan closer to his side as they continue walking. "And I hate that you're constantly throwing yourself into the line of fire, oftentimes literally. I know it's your duty, and maybe it's selfish to want to keep you safe from all of this, but my blood pressure suffers enough without you taking all these extra risks."

"I'm sorry, darling. Things will be better once the war is over," Obi-Wan says softly. "I'm sure I'll still be giving you gray hairs then, but at least it won't be as many. Until then, we'll enjoy the time we have, won't we? Where are you taking me to dinner tonight?"

"It's a surprise," Bail says. This will not be the end of the conversation with regards to Obi-Wan and whatever is going on with Maul, but there will be time to talk more about it later. He stops by his personal transport and opens the door for Obi-Wan. "I haven't taken you there before, but I think you'll like it--it's spicy."

Obi-Wan hops up to the running board and gets into the speeder with impossible grace and says, "It takes more than spice for me to like something, you know."

"Maybe," Bail says, sliding into the back seat after him. "But thankfully, I _do_ know your tastes. Just trust me."

Obi-Wan slips his hand into Bail's and smiles. "Of course, dear. I always do."


	3. In Which Maul Is Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maul is bored. Obi-Wan does something about it.

It's easy, in Kenobi's home, to fall into a routine. Kenobi wakes early in the morning to meditate, then cooks breakfast for them to share. They talk about completely pointless topics while they eat, then Kenobi leaves to do something out in the Temple or with that Council he's so enamored with. While Kenobi is out, Maul does exercise or plots more ways to cause Kenobi misery.

At the start of his imprisonment, he had tried to break into things--a surprisingly difficult task, because apparently Kenobi is used to protecting his belongings from nosy and technically competent thieves. When Maul had managed to crack the first box open, it had been completely empty except for some scrap metal to make noise when shaken around and a piece of flimsi saying, "Please don't go through my things, Maul."

Staring at the pithy note, Maul could just about imagine Kenobi's disappointed stare. It makes his stomach twist inside, to think that he's so predictable that Kenobi knew he would go snooping right from the outset.

He hasn't tried breaking into anything else since. It's pretty obvious that Kenobi does not keep anything valuable in this living space, which is very _Jedi_ of him. No possessions, no valuables, just clothes, cooking supplies, and toiletries. His literal trash heap on Lotho Minor had more personality than _this._

How sad. He doesn't get how anyone would want to be a Jedi if this is what it's like.

One evening, six days after being brought to the Temple, Maul decides to drape himself over the sofa and stare at the ceiling. He admits that there are some benefits to being Kenobi's friend and _not_ stabbing him--Kenobi is a very decent cook, for one thing, and the blankets are soft and the rooms are climate-controlled--but it is very _boring_ for the twenty or so hours Kenobi is either busy or asleep or with that _Senator_ and there are only so many times he can imagine Kenobi dying horribly in a fire before it becomes monotonous.

Kenobi finds him like that when he returns from whatever he was doing and sighs. "Maul," he says. "If you're bored, you can _do_ things, you know."

"Like what?" Maul looking up to the upside-down Kenobi in the doorway. "It's not as if you have much enrichment in this sad living space of yours."

"I told you, I only moved in a few months ago," Kenobi says. "And as you've seen, I hardly spend any time here, even when I _am_ on planet. But just because there's not much to do here doesn't mean there's nothing for _you_ to do. You can _leave_ if you want."

Maul blinks, then pushes himself upright on the couch. "You would cast me out of your home?"

"What? No, I mean you're allowed to leave and come back," Kenobi says. "The Temple is very large--there are gardens and archives and classes and work if you want to find something to spend your time on that isn't just staying _here._ "

Maul squints at Kenobi. "Am I not...imprisoned here?"

Kenobi pauses, then closes his eyes for a few seconds and mutters something to himself. He opens his eyes again and says, "No, dear, you're not a prisoner. You haven't done anything wrong, and we won't treat you like you have. You'll need an escort to go around the Temple just to make sure you don't get into any trouble, but you're perfectly allowed to explore, now that you've recovered. You've been very well-behaved, generally, so I trust that you can respect the Temple."

Maul snarls at the idea of showing any kind of _respect_ for Jedi.

Kenobi sighs. "Maul," he says. "This Temple has housed nearly half a million Jedi over the course of a thousand years. It's sacred, not just because of our faith, but also because it's our _home._ It's where we build our families and protect our history and teach our children. I won't ask you to subscribe to our faith--you don't even have to _care_ about the Temple if you don't want to--but please appreciate that it is very important to _us._ And me."

Then Kenobi does something to make his eyes look big and sad and Maul's stomach flips at the sight. Maul swallows back his initial snarling response and reminds himself he is trying to endear himself to Kenobi right now. Kenobi will not forgive him if he lays waste to the Temple, and he will certainly lose any trust he has earned so far. Once he is ready to stab Kenobi in the back, that will be the time to destroy everything Kenobi holds dear, but until then, he has to stay his hand.

"Fine," Maul says. "If I am allowed to leave this apartment, may I leave right now?"

Kenobi's brows go up, but he says, "If you want, then of course. Do you have any place in mind, or would you like me to give you a short tour?"

"It does not matter," Maul replies, getting up off the couch to leave. "As long as it is somewhere more interesting than here. We can leave immediately."

"Wait a moment, Maul," Kenobi says.

Maul sighs deeply and turns around. "What _now?"_

A small bundle of cloth hits him in the face. Maul snarls and de-tangles himself from whatever horrible thing Kenobi has inflicted upon him, only to find that it is some kind of tunic.

"As much as I enjoy seeing your bare chest all the time," Kenobi says with a wry smile, "you can't walk out in the Temple like that. You'll need to put some clothes on, dear."

* * *

Much to Maul's chagrin, Kenobi's clothes fit reasonably well on him--they're a little loose in the shoulders and hips and there is way too much fabric in the sleeves, but with a belt he looks...fine. Disgustingly _Jedi,_ but fine.

Begrudgingly, he admits that while the robes are horribly plain, they are comfortable and they smell like Kenobi, which is...not unpleasant. He can see why the Jedi wear them, even if they look the way they do.

What he _doesn't_ get is why Kenobi has to wear so many _layers._ One set of his robes amounts to about six layers of fabric at all times for no reason he can discern--is Kenobi's circulation _that_ bad? Is he going to die of hypothermia if he isn't constantly bundled up in twenty layers of insulation?

Fuck, that can't happen. Kenobi has to die horribly and torturously at his hand, not from something as paltry as his own terrible temperature regulation. He'll have to make sure Kenobi has enough blankets to not spontaneously die in his sleep.

Newly dressed in an outer tunic and leggings, Maul exits the fresher. "Are you happy now?" he asks, tossing Kenobi's superfluous layers of clothing back to him.

Kenobi catches the bundle, then looks at him up and down, pausing briefly at his torso. "You're not cold?" he asks.

"Unlike _some_ people, I do not need to be _swaddled_ in fabric to function," Maul sneers. "I am now clothed, as you demanded. Now let me out of this sad set of rooms you call a home."

Kenobi chuckles and sets the bundle of clothes aside. "Very well, dear. Let me show you some of the gardens."

* * *

The Jedi Temple, as it turns out, has many gardens. Aquatic gardens, marshy gardens, grassy gardens, even _desert_ gardens, for some reason Maul can't possibly comprehend. Kenobi seems to like it a lot, but Maul can't see what the big deal is. There's a lot of different plants in different colors but that's really about it. It's not like the Jedi _do_ anything with them--they're just there to be needily taken care of and looked at. It seems like a massive waste of space and time.

Still, it _is_ more interesting than the inside of Kenobi's home, however marginally, so he keeps his opinions to himself. Every so often, Kenobi decides to tell him fun facts about specific plant species, because apparently when you become a Jedi, your sense of 'fun' becomes 'reciting encyclopedia entries to an audience'.

Whatever. As long as Kenobi's happy.

It's in one of the more tropical gardens that they run across a group of younglings, all dressed up in their tiny Jedi robes. _They_ don't seem to be wearing thirty-six layers of clothing, so clearly whatever Kenobi's problem is, it's not a universal Jedi issue.

Kenobi kneels down to let the younglings accost him and climb all over him and it is frankly _disgusting_ in how much the little brats seem to like him, though not nearly as disgusting as how Kenobi seems to _enjoy_ this indignity.

"Master Kenobi!" one of the little snots says. "Who's that?"

Kenobi looks back at Maul, then at the youngling and says, "This is my friend, Maul. Say hello to Maul."

There's a chorus of "Hello, Master Maul," and Maul has to admit, it's nice to have people treat him with the respect he deserves. Even if they _are_ younglings that can barely connect two thoughts together in their tiny heads.

"Say hello to the younglings, Maul," Kenobi prompts.

Begrudgingly, Maul bows and says hello to the younglings. They are, for some reason, very happy about this, instead of being rightfully terrified of the Sith Lord in their midst.

Sensing this moment of weakness, the younglings immediately rope Kenobi into whatever class session they're doing, which appears to be some kind of juvenile game about using the Force which involves levitating balls and cushions. Kenobi plays with them and inexplicably seems to enjoy the experience--the Force around him practically glows with warmth, and it's so intense that Maul takes a couple of steps back so he doesn't make himself sick.

A green-skinned youngling walks up to Maul and holds up a ball. "Do you want to play too, Master Maul?" it asks. "It's fun."

Maul frowns. This is not what he agreed to when he left Kenobi's home. "I do not have _fun._ It is undignified."

The youngling's eyes get all big and watery. "You don't like fun?" it quibbles.

Kenobi glances back at him over an armful of children and says, "Why don't you give it a try, Maul? Just once or twice, to see how it works."

Maul closes his eyes and reminds himself that he is going to stab Kenobi in the back down the line as revenge for all this. He can endure a pointless youngling's game until then. He sighs and resigns himself to his fate. "Very well. Show me your game, youngling."

The youngling happily shows him how the game works. He's pretty sure the youngling has no idea what it's talking about because the rules make absolutely no sense, and the only thing he's able to understand from the jumbled explanation is that all the balls need to stay afloat and move around in some sort of patterns.

Whatever. The rules don't really matter. Maul levitates some colorful balls as the youngling prompts him to and finds it actually surprisingly difficult--his power in the Force is more suited to crushing throats and flinging weapons into rib cages, not slowly levitating four small balls in intricate patterns. He notes with some frustration that the literal child appears to be having a much easier time with it than he is.

The third time he accidentally flings a ball across the garden and he _really_ begins to feel the urge to murder something, Kenobi puts a hand on his shoulder and says, "You're holding onto the Force too tightly, dear. If you let it flow freely through you, it's easier to direct."

"What?" Maul snarls.

Gently, Kenobi grips his wrist, turning his palm upwards. "You don't need to _grab_ the Force--it's already everywhere. Center yourself and breathe, and the Force will flow through you," he says. "Like this."

Maul feels Kenobi take a deep breath behind him, the slow rise and fall of Kenobi's chest pressing against his back, and Kenobi's Force envelops him in warmth, not unlike his new floral-printed blanket. Everything seems to settle and slow to something like the unbroken surface of a lake, and without thinking to, Maul finds himself breathing in sync with Kenobi. The Force around them feels calm and docile, nothing like the violent power of the Dark Side.

"That's it," Kenobi says. "Now give it a try."

Maul breathes in, pulling the power of the Force into himself, then lets it out. Slowly, the colorful balls lift off the ground one by one, suspended by a feather-light touch. Maul maneuvers the balls into levitating shapes, spinning them around just to see if he can, and--

All at once, something snaps and reality filters back in, sights and sounds and smells. The balls all drop to the floor, sending the younglings chasing after them.

"Very good," Kenobi says, smiling. "For a first try that was very good, Maul."

The praise makes something warm settle in Maul's chest, but he ignores it. "What was that? Light side nonsense?"

"It's not really Light or Dark--it's just the Force," Kenobi says, picking up a few balls and tossing them to the younglings. "The mindset of working with the Force matters, you know? We call it Force- _sensitivity_ and not Force- _use_ for a reason--it's not a tool you can _use_ so much as a force to redirect to accomplish your goals. It's the same way you place a turbine under a waterfall to generate power--you take advantage of the natural forces that are already there. Much easier than having to rotate the turbine yourself, wouldn't you agree?"

Maul stays silent. He's never used the Force like that before--so strangely insubstantial like trying to grasp a gust of wind. The Dark Side is violent and _heavy,_ like trying to wrangle a snarling creature. _Letting go_ is an easy way to get killed, but apparently the Jedi's Force is not anything like that.

It goes against everything he ever learned from Sidious. He's not sure what to think of that.

"Master Kenobi!" one of the younglings says. A pair of them waddle up. One of them holds up a small planter with a pudgy plant. "I got you a gift! Master Gilmer says you really like plants so I got one for you! Thanks for helping me with meditation!"

Kenobi kneels down to take the plant. "Thank you, Irrin, this is very sweet. I'll make sure this plant gets taken care of."

The youngling, apparently Irrin, grins a gap-toothed grin at him while the second youngling, the one that had coerced Maul into the stupid ball game says, "Thanks for playing with me, Master Maul! You did really good!"

Then, without warning, it flings its arms around Maul's legs and it takes all of his self control not to punt it across the garden on reflex.

"What in the Sith hells are you doing?" Maul asks.

"This is a hug," the youngling tells him matter-of-factly. "You give them to people to show you like them."

Restraining someone as a form of affection sounds fake, but obviously Maul is not the expert in obscure Jedi traditions.

"You're supposed to give me one back," the youngling adds when the 'hug' goes on about five seconds too long.

"You said I am supposed to give them to people to show I like them," Maul says.

The youngling does the thing to make its eyes big and watery again. "You don't like me, Master Maul?"

With horror, Maul realizes this youngling might possibly burst into tears, and makes the snap judgement that giving a 'hug' is a better alternative than the commotion that will ensue if he makes a child cry. "No, that's not what I meant," he says, hastily ducking down to wrap his arms around it. It feels weird and not very affectionate at all. The youngling seems to like it well enough, though, and smiles at him when he lets go.

"My name is Bee'thac!" the youngling says. "But all my friends call me Bee! You're my friend now, so you can call me Bee, too! We should play again next time!"

Maul takes a deep breath. He didn't realize playing with a youngling meant entering some sort of life-long contract--he'll be sure not to make that mistake again. It's too much investment. "If we meet again," he says. Hopefully he never will.

Thankfully, the Master supervising all these younglings calls to the two stragglers, and the two of them bow and run back to the rest of their group. Kenobi waves goodbye to all the younglings.

"Thank you for playing with them," Kenobi says to Maul. "It's so difficult to provide everything they need in the middle of this war. Even if they don't see what's going on in the galaxy now, they can feel the suffering through the Force, and the Jedi that die every day--it's good to give them a little happiness whenever we can."

"You...seem fond of the younglings," Maul says.

"They're our future," Kenobi says softly. "When we brought them into our family in the Temple, we promised to protect them and give them good lives, either as Jedi or whatever other paths they chose. They shouldn't be involved in all this conflict--they're innocent, and we have to do our best by them."

"They're naïve and defenseless," Maul says. When he was that age, Sidious had already started training him to become a Sith assassin. He certainly did not have all this _coddling,_ and he turned out fine, at least up until the point where Kenobi cut him in half. "They will be torn apart out in the galaxy."

"Then it's a good thing we're not setting them loose out there on their own. They're younglings, not soldiers, dear," Kenobi says. "Of course, we'll teach them how to defend themselves and how to fight and, Force forbid, _kill,_ but they're still young and they have to learn kindness and compassion first. They have to learn there's good in the world, and that it's worth fighting for, and how to use those skills to protect others. I suppose you were raised differently."

Maul doesn't answer that. He is not about to discuss his upbringing with Kenobi.

Kenobi exhales deeply, then smiles fondly at his little potted plant. "I don't know what I'll do with this. I might have to bring it back to the gardens."

"I thought you liked plants?" Maul asks. "You can put it in your room--I dare say it will liven things up a little in there."

"I would if I could, but I'm hardly ever home," Kenobi replies. "It wouldn't be very fair to this little thing to keep it when I'm not around to take care of it. Even a desert succulent like this one needs to be watered regularly."

Maul looks at the plant. It's less than a palm's width tall, with round plump fleshy leaves--a desert plant, apparently. "Why do you care so much about a plant? It's not sentient."

"Maybe not," Kenobi says, "but it's still a living thing. Even if _it_ can't feel anything, it's still cruel to send it to certain death when I have other options available."

Maul frowns. There's no _point_ in caring about leaves and vines. "What is with your fascination with plants? Surely, this is not required of you Jedi?"

"Oh, no," Kenobi says. "All Jedi appreciate plant life to some degree, but it's also a...personal interest for me. My old Master enjoyed plants very much. We had several of them in our quarters that we looked after together--some months it was like living in a greenhouse. Naturally I ended up learning plenty about them."

"Your old Master," Maul says. "Qui-Gon Jinn."

Kenobi pauses to examine his tiny succulent for a long few moments, then turns back towards Maul and says, "Yes. Qui-Gon Jinn was my Master."

"What happened to him?" Maul asks.

There's another, longer pause. Maul can feel the Force roiling around Kenobi for a few seconds before it smooths out again, Jedi-serene as always. It's a little comforting to know that even Kenobi can be ruffled, as well as he seems to manage it.

"He died," Kenobi says softly. "He fought against a Sith Apprentice and lost, as anyone can."

"Your Master was _killed,_ " Maul corrects. "You seem to care greatly for him. Are you not angry about his death?"

Kenobi takes a deep breath. There's an intense sadness hanging over him, but strangely, no anger or hatred. Nothing at all like the Padawan who had screamed for his Master's death and cut the aggressor in half for it. "Maul, darling," he says. "It happened over ten years ago. I was angry when it happened, of course--anyone would be, seeing one of the most important people in their life die right in front of them--but Qui-Gon is gone now, and the man who killed him is no longer an issue."

"You don't want revenge against the man who murdered your Master?" Maul asks. "You don't _hate_ him?"

Kenobi frowns. "Hate and revenge aren't the Jedi way, Maul. What good would it do? Revenge wouldn't bring Qui-Gon back and hating the man who killed him doesn't help anyone."

"You don't care about it at all?"

"I wouldn't say I _don't care._ It's just not relevant anymore. Is there a reason you're asking?"

Maul considers admitting it now, that he was the one who murdered Qui-Gon Jinn, just to see Kenobi's face, but he realizes now that Kenobi would not be angry or broken by this revelation, but _disappointed,_ and decides he doesn't want to see that. There will be a better time to reveal that information. "No," he says. "I was simply curious."

Kenobi looks at him for a few long moments, clearly thinking through his next words, then says, "Well, obviously the subject is still upsetting, but I've had time to work on it. If I were to...speak to that man now, there are some things I would like to say, but as long as he can't do to other people what he did to Qui-Gon and me, then I would be satisfied. In any case, I already cut him in half. It's hard to get closure any more definitively than that." Kenobi shrugs. "But there's no need to discuss such grim topics. Like I said, it happened a long time ago, and there's nothing to change it now. I miss Qui-Gon--I always will--but I can't dwell on my past. I've moved on. There are many things I still have to do."

Maul squints at Kenobi, hardly believing his words. A Master is a Padawan's _life._ How could Kenobi possibly ever forgive a man who stabbed his Master to death right in front of him? How could he possibly _not_ hate him with all his being?

That doesn't make sense.

"Maul?" Kenobi asks.

Maul grunts. "What?"

"You seemed to have zoned out for a moment. Are you feeling all right? If you need to rest, I don't mind."

Maul growls. "I'm fine. I was simply thinking. Surely you are acquainted, however briefly, with the process."

Kenobi laughs. "Oh, so you do have a sense of humor. If you insist you're fine, then let's continue. I still haven't shown you the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I think you'll enjoy it."

Maul starts to say something when Kenobi grasps Maul's hand in a warm and firm grip that catches him completely off guard. Kenobi tugs him away to the next garden and Maul can't even gather his thoughts to argue at all.

Later, Maul admits that the Room of a Thousand Fountains is at least somewhat enjoyable.

Perhaps there is some merit in holding off on murdering Kenobi. Just for a little longer.


	4. In Which Bail Needs A Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bail has had a long day. It's about to get longer.

It's a late night when Bail finally returns home from the Senate. That in of itself isn't unusual--these days, work goes late more often than not--but what _is_ unusual is the itching feeling at the back of his mind when he reaches to open the door. A bad feeling.

He pauses and looks over the keypad and the door. Nothing seems to be out of place, but he still _feels_ something amiss. Something isn't right.

Slowly, he pulls out his blaster pistol. Maybe he's being too high-strung, but the war has made him many enemies and he hasn't survived this long by ignoring his intuition--paranoid is better than dead. He keys his passcode in and the door slides open silently.

The lights are on.

Bail's heart leaps in his chest. Someone's broken into his apartment--but why? Burglary or something worse?

He raises his blaster and creeps his way to the living room. Some of his things--datapads, pillows, decorations--have been moved around, but nothing seems to be broken or missing. That's...encouraging, possibly. It still doesn't discount the possibility that someone is here to kill him.

He hears a low scraping noise from the kitchen and looks up. There's a shadow of a person cast on the floor, just visible through the doorway--it's moving, but not much. Whoever it is is clearly in no hurry to go anywhere.

Carefully, he moves to the kitchen, blaster raised and ready.

A red Zabrak wearing a slightly soiled apron looks up from a pungent-smelling pot on the stove and says, "Oh. You're finally here. It's about time."

What in the actual hell. 

Bail doesn't lower his blaster. "Why are you in my apartment?" he asks. "What are you doing?"

The Zabrak rolls his eyes, clearly not perturbed by having a blaster pointed directly at his face. "Surely your powers of observation aren't so pathetic that you can't figure that out for yourself. I am cooking, obviously."

"Why are you cooking in _my apartment?_ " Bail asks.

"Because you were taking too long to return home and Kenobi informs me that it is polite and helpful to prepare a meal under these circumstances." The Zabrak holds out a plate with unevenly chopped raw vegetables on it. "The soup isn't finished, but you can eat this if you are hungry."

Bail can't believe this is happening to him. He comes home to an intruder who is offering his own food to him. As if this day hasn't been long enough already.

"Why did you break into my apartment in the first place?" he asks.

The Zabrak sniffs. "If you didn't want unexpected visitors in your living space you should have used a better-secured keypad--I barely had to breathe on it before it let me in. For comparison, Kenobi's keypad takes at least fifteen minutes to slice. You would do well to learn from him." He dumps the plate of diced vegetables into the pot and stirs it slowly. It seems to be some kind of thick soup with a random assortment of rice and vegetables and cubed bantha meat--in all probability, the bantha steak Bail was planning to eat for dinner tonight. The Zabrak glances at Bail again. "Stop pointing that toy at me. It's impolite."

The _audacity_ of this man to complain about manners when _he's_ the one who broke and entered. Bail isn't an idiot. He keeps his blaster aimed at the Zabrak. "Explain what you're doing here or I'll shoot," Bail says.

"I had questions," the Zabrak says. "And Kenobi is not around to answer them. Since you are intimately acquainted with him, you seemed to be the next best option." He ladles out some of the soup and tastes it, then wrinkles his nose and adds a bit more salt. "Are you satisfied now?"

Obi-Wan had left Coruscant for the war front a few days ago, so that much made sense, but the rest of it very much _doesn't._

Bail lowers his blaster more out of disbelief than anything else. "You," he says slowly, "had questions."

"Yes," the Zabrak snaps back. "I had a query which I desired the answer to. A _question,_ Senator. Surely you are familiar with the concept."

"And when Obi-Wan wasn't around to answer it, you decided to _break into my apartment?_ "

The Zabrak turns the stove off and glares at him. "Yes, that is correct. I don't see what is so difficult for you to understand."

"Why didn't you _comm?_ " Bail asks. "Or send a _message?_ Or _anything_ that wasn't literal breaking and entering? Are you out of your mind?"

"My concerns are too important for commlink," the Zabrak says haughtily. "I needed an immediate response."

Bail takes a deep breath. "Do you...not know how to use a commlink?"

The Zabrak doesn't answer. He simply ladles out a bowl of chunky soup and holds it out to Bail. It smells...fine. Edible, at least. "Here is your dinner. It should be adequate for your dietary needs."

"I'm fine, thanks," Bail says. "What did you possibly have to ask so badly that you broke into my apartment for it?"

"Why are you so hung up about the breaking in?" the Zabrak asks as he puts the bowl on the dining table and grabs another for himself. "I didn't break anything. I didn't steal anything. I simply sliced the keypad and waited politely for you to arrive. I even cooked dinner. You should be thanking me."

"No, I don't think I should," Bail says.

The Zabrak rolls his eyes and pulls his apron off--to reveal that not only is he wearing what is unmistakably Obi-Wan's clothes, but that he is wearing only the overtunic and in such a way that the neckline goes down almost to the navel. He then drapes himself onto a chair that by all logic should not be possible to drape one's self on, and sighs dramatically. "You people are all so difficult to please."

Bail sets his blaster on the table. He's pretty sure he's not about to get murdered, but he definitely doesn't feel comfortable putting it away, either. Then he pulls out a bottle of brandy--the strong kind. It's been too long of a day to deal with this sober.

The Zabrak looks up at him over his bowl of soup. "Are you going to share that?"

"No," Bail says. "This is mine."

"Hmph," the Zabrak says. "How ungenerous. I don't know what Kenobi sees in you."

"This may be a surprise to you, but Obi-Wan and I have a _very_ different relationship than the one you and I are experiencing right now," Bail says as he sits down and pours himself a shot. "What do you want?"

"I would like for you to be a more gracious guest," the Zabrak says. "I went to all this effort for you. Some appreciation would be nice."

"This is _my apartment!_ You broke into _my apartment_ and cooked dinner with _my food!_ " Bail snaps. "I don't know what Obi-Wan has taught you, but let this be a lesson from me: when you go into someone's home without their consent, they are allowed to be angry at you!" He takes a deep breath and tries to remember why Obi-Wan thought it was a good idea to bring this man into his home, and why it is now _his_ problem. "Tell me what you wanted to ask before I call security."

"Very well," the Zabrak says. "As you likely know, Kenobi left a few days ago. I am currently in his living space alone."

A terrible idea on Obi-Wan's part, for sure.

"I am trying to...endear myself to Kenobi. As...appreciation for the help he has offered me," the Zabrak continues. "So I started, with his help, to reorganize the living space and make it less horribly depressing. But now that Kenobi has left, I find myself listless and unmotivated. I am...concerned that he will not return to the Temple due to circumstances out of my control, which is unacceptable." He clenches his fists. "It is extremely distracting. When will Kenobi return to Coruscant so that I may continue to improve his opinion of me?"

Bail takes a deep breath. "Are you telling me you did all this because you...miss Obi-Wan?"

"No, I do not _miss_ Kenobi--I am simply concerned that the war will cause him unacceptable irreversible harm. I just told you: I am here because I need to know when Kenobi will return, so that I can continue my efforts to monitor his health and endear myself to him. When is he coming back?"

"I don't know that," Bail says. "Obi-Wan is in the middle of a war. He can't just come back to Coruscant whenever he feels like it--his duty always comes first."

"He would...deny himself my company for his duty?" the Zabrak asks.

_"Yes."_

"I don't understand. The war is unpleasant. I am not unpleasant."

Bail bites back the retort he very much wants to make and takes a deep breath. "Obi-Wan's duty is to the people and the Republic. He has to work to protect billions of lives out in the galaxy--and certainly, no one will thank him for it when he's done, but he does it anyways because it's his duty and his responsibility, and protecting life is important to him. He's not going to let his personal desires override that, no matter how pleasant you are or aren't."

The Zabrak looks at him for a long moment, then says, "I see. So you mean he will continue to endanger himself unnecessarily as long as this war continues? And that he will continue to be absent from his home?"

"Yes," Bail says. "That is what I'm saying."

"Hm," the Zabrak says. "Very well. I will think on this." He stands up and picks up his bowl of soup. "Thank you for the insight, Senator. If I have another question I will return."

" _Comm me_ next time," Bail says. "Don't break into my apartment--or anywhere else. I _will_ call security if this happens again."

The Zabrak doesn't even respond--he simply leaves, taking the bowl of soup with him.

Bail pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a few deep breaths. He's not drunk enough for this. He's not _anything_ enough for this.

When he finally feels ready to face reality again, he tastes the Zabrak's soup--it's late after all, and he's not about to waste perfectly good food. Appearance aside, it's...actually pretty good. It's very similar to the way Obi-Wan cooks, which means Obi-Wan probably taught him how to cook. Between that and the clothes, Bail isn't sure what to think.

He'd like to say that 'dangerous and violent' isn't Obi-Wan's type, but then again, hearsay is that Obi-Wan regularly flirts with literal Sith in the middle of fighting for his life. As if Bail isn't already losing enough years off his life worrying about Obi-Wan's insane life decisions.

Bail pulls out his commlink and dials Obi-Wan's code. If Obi-Wan wanted to adopt this Zabrak, he's going to have to deal with him the whole way.


	5. In Which Maul Realizes He May Have Fucked Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> look we all knew this was going to happen okay

Maul is roused early in the morning by a faint ripple in the Force. It's not altogether uncommon these days--spending so much time in the Jedi Temple has made him sensitive to these strange shifts in the _flow_ of the Force, as Kenobi liked to put it. Or maybe after meditating with Kenobi a few times, he's simply become better at seeing them.

In any case, he wakes to the feeling of muffled pain radiating through the Force, which is a familiar enough sensation until Maul realizes _he's_ not the one in pain. It takes an embarrassing ten seconds to realize the implications of that and jerk out of bed.

 _Kenobi's_ returned home.

He throws his door open to find Kenobi sprawled out on the sofa in his underclothes, looking flushed. He doesn't look comfortable--in fact, he looks like he stripped off his outer layers, collapsed on the first horizontal surface he could find, and passed out.

The pathetic sight infuriates Maul. How dare someone who isn't _him_ do this to Kenobi? Kenobi is _not_ allowed to suffer from such petty inconveniences--the only acceptable way for Kenobi to die is in glorious battle against a mortal enemy. And that mortal enemy is him.

He grabs Kenobi under the arms and pulls him back so he's at least laying on the sofa in a position that won't strain his back. Kenobi feels a little feverish--his face is slightly clammy and while Maul has no idea what a human's body temperature is supposed to be at baseline, he's pretty sure Kenobi isn't usually this warm. Clearly, this is just what happens when Kenobi isn't constantly bundled up in sixty-three layers of clothing to manage his temperature properly.

Well, Maul is certainly not going to _dress_ Kenobi's unconscious body, so he grabs his still-warm floral-printed blanket and settles it on top of Kenobi as neatly as he can manage. Maul's in the process of tucking the blanket in when Kenobi groans and opens his eyes.

Kenobi doesn't look entirely there--his expression is exhausted and his eyes are hazy--but he makes eye contact with Maul without too much trouble. His face shifts from surprise to confusion. "Maul?" he asks hoarsely.

"You sound like shit, Kenobi," Maul says. "Why is it that you leave my presence for less than three weeks and suddenly your health collapses? Are you incapable of caring for yourself?"

Kenobi smiles weakly and coughs. "Sorry, dear," he says, and oh, how nice it is to hear Kenobi call him _dear_ again. "This one wasn't my fault--a cave collapsed on us and I had to hold it up until we could all get out."

Maul has the sudden urge to murder a cave. How dare something so paltry make an attempt on Kenobi's life. "Are you damaged?"

Kenobi exhales deeply. "Well, I'm hurt, obviously, or I'd still be out on the field instead of back here again. It's nothing more than a few bruised ribs, but with the unfortunate timing of this illness--" he coughs again, loudly, "--I was put on medical leave against my will." He closes his eyes for a long moment, then looks back at Maul. "Are you wearing Bail's clothes?"

Maul glances down at himself. He is, in fact, wearing nightclothes that Kenobi's Senator had given him. For some reason, the Senator had strongly disagreed with his wearing Kenobi's robes, and had given him some sets of clothing for himself. Maul didn't particularly _like_ the Senator's clothes, but anything was better than walking around looking like a Jedi. He tells Kenobi as much.

"Ah," Kenobi says. "I see. I'll have to thank him later, then. It's really my fault I didn't take you to the quartermaster before I left--it completely slipped my mind. I should have gotten you a few sets of your own clothes. I'm sorry."

"For a man with bruised ribs and an illness, you certainly like to talk," Maul says.

"Talking under duress is one of my most notable talents," Kenobi says. "Negotiations and working with intergalactic leaders and military officers and talking my way out of trouble, and..." He trails off, his eyes going slightly glassy.

"Kenobi?"

Kenobi blinks and looks back up at him. "What? Oh, I apologize. I'm just...very tired. It's been a long few weeks--it's always long these days with the war, and there's so many things I mean to do after it's out of the way, except sometimes it feels like that will never..." He trails off again and tries to sit up. "I'm rambling again, aren't I? People tell me I talk too much sometimes. I'm sorry."

It's clear at this point that Kenobi is borderline delirious. Maul pushes Kenobi back down to the couch--it's very easy, as there's barely any resistance. "Go to sleep, Kenobi."

"Am I bothering you? It's early, isn't it? I must have woken you up--I didn't mean to do that, I didn't even realize you were still here. I should have been quieter, or--"

"Kenobi," Maul says. "Stop your nonsense. Go to sleep. You can talk after you have rested."

Kenobi blinks at him blearily. "You'll still be here?"

"I will be here," Maul says. "Go to sleep. You look pathetic."

Kenobi needs no further encouragement. He closes his eyes and falls asleep almost instantly. Maul finishes tucking in the blanket. So Kenobi won't get cold, obviously.

Something about seeing Kenobi so peaceful and vulnerable makes Maul's heart squeeze in his chest.

* * *

It is a full eighteen hours later when Kenobi finally wakes again. It's good timing, because Maul has just finished cooking some of those noodles Kenobi seems to like so much.

He brings a bowl over to the coffee table, where Kenobi sits up slowly, still holding the blanket to his chest. There's still a slight flush in his cheeks, but he looks much more alert now, even when he looks at Maul with confusion.

"Maul?" he says. "What--what's going on?"

"I am serving you food," Maul says, because apparently he is surrounded by people who need the obvious explained to them. "Because you are clearly in no state to cook for yourself."

"That's not--I mean, Maul, why are you here?"

Maul pauses. "I told you I would be. Did you forget that, Kenobi?"

Kenobi purses his lips, then says, "I...didn't realize that actually happened. I wasn't exactly at my most lucid."

Maul snorts. "That much was obvious. Is it so hard to believe I would still be here, in the place where I live? Or is your memory so faulty you even forget bringing me into your home?"

Kenobi doesn't respond for a long few seconds. When he finally gathers his words, he says, "I thought you would have left."

"What?" Maul says. "Why would I do something as idiotic as that?"

"I don't know," Kenobi says. "You have no reason to stay, that's all. You've fully recovered from your injuries, you don't seem to like the Temple that much to begin with, and there's nothing keeping you here."

Maul raises a brow. " _You_ are here," he points out.

"Oh," Kenobi says softly, his eyes dropping away from Maul's. "Oh. I see."

Maul waits for Kenobi to elaborate on what he does or does not see, but there is nothing. Kenobi seems to lose himself in his thoughts for a solid thirty seconds until Maul gets sick of waiting around for something to happen and shoves the bowl of noodles into his hands.

"Eat," he says. "Nutrition will make you recover sooner."

"You didn't have to cook for me," Kenobi says, taking the bowl. "There's a perfectly good refectory in the Temple."

" _You_ are the one who said that it is polite and helpful to cook food for a person in need," Maul says. "And you, pathetic as you are, are currently in need. Correct?"

"Well, I suppose you're not _wrong,_ " Kenobi replies. "But you don't have to feel obligated to help me like this, you know--you have no debts to pay back to me. I didn't help you hoping you'd give me something in return."

"No? Then what _were_ you expecting?" Maul asks. "Or do you always pick up strays and bring them into your home?"

"That's a bit more Qui-Gon's thing than mine," Kenobi says with a small smile. "I helped you because I thought you could do with the help. That's all."

"Well, you need the help now, so I cooked for you. All this _drama_ over it is unnecessary," Maul says with a sniff. "Besides, the Temple refectory is terrible. Their food is much worse than yours. And mine. You would never recover in a reasonable time eating that garbage."

"The refectory isn't _that_ bad," Kenobi says, slowly taking a bite of his food. "But I admit, this is very good. Thank you, Maul." Kenobi smiles and Maul's stomach flips--he can't seem to tear his eyes away from it.

"Of course you think it is good. You informed me you enjoyed squash and peppers in this dish, so I bought them specially for your meal."

Kenobi's cheeks go a bit red and the Force around him seems to glitter with light and warmth. "I hardly mentioned that in passing. You remembered that?"

"Well, unlike some people in this room, my memory is functioning and intact. There's no need to get _emotional_ about it," Maul says with a slight sneer. "I am only doing this because you are clearly incapable of caring for yourself."

"I appreciate it, but you don't need to worry about me, dear. Despite my current sorry state, I'm actually very good at staying alive. Though perhaps not quite as good as you." Kenobi drinks broth directly from his bowl, then squints at it. "Is this Bail's? Did you steal one of his bowls?"

"If he didn't want me to take it, he should have said something," Maul says. "And what do you mean, 'not as good as me'?"

Kenobi vaguely gestures to Maul's lower body. "It's obvious you've been through things that would kill just about anyone-- _I_ certainly have never had to endure anything as strenuous as having my lower body replaced," he says. "And yet, here you are. I'm sorry you had to go through that kind of suffering."

And oh, how would Kenobi react if he knew exactly who had caused that suffering? If he'd known exactly how much torture Maul had endured since their duel on Naboo, would he regret it? Would he be torn apart to know that he had caused so much needless pain and hatred?

The idea makes Maul grimace--Kenobi's warmth in the Force turning cold with dread, his smile falling into despair, his smooth and steady voice cracking with anguish and regret--it all feels so _repulsive_ now. There's no honor or glory in defeating Kenobi that way--with anything other than his power and the Force, to prove in the end he is truly the superior warrior.

No, it is better this way, with Kenobi ignorant of their history. It is not that important. Not compared to everything else.

Kenobi finishes his meal and sets the bowl softly down on the coffee table. He still looks disheveled with his side-swept fringe falling loose down his face over slightly feverish cheeks. And yet, when he looks back up at Maul and smiles, he almost seems to glow with affection and gratitude. "Thank you, Maul. You didn't have to take up my burdens, but I appreciate it. Your care has been...a great comfort in difficult times."

And then, without warning, Kenobi reaches out and pulls Maul in closer, wrapping his arms around him. Between the two of them, the Force shines with Light so intense that, for a moment, Maul can hardly breathe from it. Kenobi squeezes him, making him feel warm all the way through.

Holy fuck. This is a _hug._ The thing Jedi do to show affection.

"You're a good friend, Maul," Kenobi says, his voice soft by Maul's ear. "I know it isn't ideal, but I'm glad we had the chance to meet each other this way."

Slowly, Maul reaches his arms around Kenobi's back and squeezes him back. It still feels weird and not very affectionate, but he thinks he might be starting to see the appeal of it.

The thought strikes him all at once that his plan has finally succeeded. Kenobi is hugging him--he _cares_ about him. He _trusts_ him. All Maul has to do now is stab Kenobi in the back and laugh in his face as he wastes away to nothing, and--

Maul's thoughts freeze up. All he has to do is kill Kenobi--it's the only thing he's wanted for so long now, and he can't make himself move. He can't even _think_ about it. He has Kenobi's neck inches away and he can't bring himself to strangle him. He _wants_ to see Kenobi smile. He _wants_ to hear Kenobi lecture about stupid plants and meditation and ancient history. He _wants_ Kenobi to be...happy, and not just for some kind of ruse--the thought of Kenobi's death and suffering has somehow gone from a future problem to a now _unacceptable outcome._

He rips himself out of Kenobi's arms and Kenobi's eyes go wide like a kicked tooka's. "Maul? Are you--"

"I have to leave," Maul says, staggering backwards and nearly tripping himself on the coffee table. He can't be here anymore. He can't stand this.

Kenobi reaches for him, but as ill as he is, he doesn't even come close. "Maul, I'm sorry, I--"

Maul flees Kenobi's home as fast as he can.


	6. In Which Bail Narrowly Avoids A Diplomatic Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bail is not a relationship counselor.

Sometimes, work in the Senate is so dull that Bail wishes something would happen, just to liven things up a little.

 _Sometimes,_ Bail thinks as he hears violent commotion erupt outside his office door, he should learn how to keep his stupid mouth shut.

He takes cover behind a desk and primes his blaster because honestly, with how things have been going lately, this might as well happen.

There's a distinct thud of a body hitting the ground and the whirring sound of a keypad override, just before the door slides open with a pneumatic hiss.

Bail fires. He only gets off two shots before an invisible force snatches the blaster out of his hand, flinging it across the room.

Bail draws his second blaster, only for that one to get ripped away, too, and he goes for the third one hidden under his desk when he gets grabbed by the collar and thrown across the floor.

This is around the point Bail realizes exactly _who_ is attacking him--it's the red Zabrak that Obi-Wan had adopted. Maul.

"Are you done?" Maul snarls.

"Why are you attacking me?" Bail asks as he sits up. His voice doesn't even shake--he should get an award for his composure. "How did you even get in here?"

"Your security is deplorable," Maul says, stepping closer. "Those guards outside are worthless. I hope you aren't paying them for such shoddy work."

He isn't, technically, since the Senate guards are clones and clones, unfortunately, don't exactly get a paycheck, but that's kind of not the point right now--Maul should _not_ be able to subdue Coruscant Guard clones that easily or quickly. Not unless he's much more dangerous than previously thought.

Maul grabs him by the collar and drags him upright, baring his teeth and glaring with his gold-and-red eyes. Malice hangs heavy around him in a way that's almost palpable, and Bail swallows nervously.

Obi-Wan is going to be very upset if Maul murders him.

Fuck, Bail thinks, _I'm_ going to be very upset if Maul murders me.

"What do you want?" Bail asks.

"You," Maul snarls, "are going to _fix_ me."

Bail, despite himself, blinks. "I beg your pardon?"

"If you value your life, Organa, then you will _fix_ me!"

Bail tries to think of any possible reason Maul would break into his office to force him to do...something on pain of death, and can't come up with anything.

"I'm sorry. What, exactly, am I fixing?" Bail asks, trying to twist Maul's hands off his collar without success--the man's grip is like iron. "Did something happen that I should know about?"

"Kenobi _cursed_ me with his Jedi powers!"

"Obi-Wan _what?"_

Maul shakes Bail sharply. "I know you heard me. He cursed me, confounded me, _ensnared_ me so I would be ruined!"

That doesn't _at all_ explain what Maul is talking about, much less why he's now threatening imminent death. Not that Bail thinks himself above death threats--he certainly gets enough of them on a regular basis--but he generally has a good idea of _why_ his head's on the chopping block at any given time.

"You're...going to have to explain that a little," Bail says. "Why would Obi-Wan...curse you?"

"To defend his pathetic self, undoubtedly," Maul says, leaning in so his face is uncomfortably close. "He must have realized my plans for him and laid a trap so that I could not take my revenge on him without destroying myself. It is unforgivable that I would fall for such a trick, but that ends now."

"...Revenge?"

"Yes," Maul replies, dropping Bail to the floor. "Revenge. Against the Jedi and against Kenobi most of all, my eternal enemy. I had meant to befriend him and gain his trust so he would be destroyed when I betrayed him, and I _succeeded_ \--yesterday, he had me participate in a ritual to show his affections..."

Bail is suddenly _very_ sure he doesn't want to hear about this.

"...which involves wrapping his arms around my body and squeezing tightly."

 _Oh,_ okay. Thank fuck.

"The Jedi call it a 'hug'."

"Yes, Maul, I _know_ what a hug is," Bail says, feeling very much like his soul nearly left his body. "Did you break into my office and threaten me because Obi-Wan _hugged_ you?"

"No, I am here because Kenobi _cursed_ me!" Maul roars. "I act irrationally around him! Whenever I'm away from him, I'm _thinking_ about him! The thought of him in pain and danger causes me distress!" He drags his hand down his face. "When he smiles, he's bright like stars. His touch--firm, yet gentle. Warm. He is so deliberate and in control and _strong_ , yet he reaches out to others constantly. He reaches out to _me._ "

Maul stares out to the distance, seemingly lost in his thoughts, or perhaps pleasant memories of Obi-Wan. Then, with a jerk, he swivels to meet Bail's gaze directly.

"How do you stand it, Organa? How do you _function,_ knowing Kenobi will one day never be able smile at you again?"

This is _not_ what Bail thought he'd be doing today.

Maul grabs him by the front of his shirt. "Answer me!"

"I don't," Bail says.

Maul growls at him.

"I'm scared. Constantly, I'm scared Obi-Wan will never come back," Bail says. "I'm scared he'll find himself in a situation where he'll have to choose between his survival and the survival of those he's sworn to protect, because I know that every time he'll choose the latter."

"Keep talking," Maul says.

Bail keeps talking. "He's not made for war. He's good at it, and he'll keep doing it as long as he has to because he's always been willing to give himself and everything he has to help others, but he's a peacekeeper at heart, not a warrior. I can't protect him from the Sith or the Separatist droids, and the longer this war goes on, the more likely it becomes that he'll die a lonely death on a battlefield in some way I couldn't prevent, far from where I would ever be able to witness it."

Maul grimaces and leans in close, as if trying to judge the truthfulness of his words by close examination alone. His red-and-gold eyes are crazed, burning with some kind of focus Bail can't even comprehend.

"And what do you do, Organa?" Maul asks, his voice low and rumbling in his chest. "What do you do, knowing what will happen to Kenobi out there and feeling as you do?"

Bail tries to pull his gaze from Maul's but finds himself paralyzed by it. He takes a deep breath and says, "I do what I can. I'm there for him when I can be. I give him comfort and love when he's here and fight his battles in the Senate when he's not."

"That's all?" Maul asks. "That's all you can do?"

"I trust him," Bail says. "I can trust him to take care of himself the best he can, and to make his own choices. He's capable, Maul. One day he may be defeated like anyone can be, but he'll do everything he can and everything he needs to, and if he chooses to sacrifice himself one day...then I'll trust that it was necessary. I can't protect him and I can't take those choices away from him, but I can trust him and love him. Maybe that's enough."

Maul's eyes narrow. "You...love him?"

"I do," Bail says. "And it sounds like you might just love him a little bit, too, Maul."

Maul recoils so hard that he nearly throws Bail against the wall. "That's impossible! I just...I need him to be happy, and to make sure he's wrapped up so he doesn't die from hypothermia. That's not _love,_ that's the curse he's put on me to _care_ about him!"

"It's...not a bad thing to care about Obi-Wan," Bail says slowly as he pushes himself up to a sitting position. "He gives so much of himself to everyone that it's not bad for him to receive a little bit in return. He cares about _you,_ you know."

"It _is_ bad to care about Kenobi! Because it means I can't _murder_ him!" Maul shouts.

Okay. That's...concerning. Obviously, Obi-Wan is capable of handling people who want to murder him, and it's not at all surprising that the probably Dark stranger with a knife that Obi-Wan adopted off the street is one of those enterprising folks, but Bail would be a lot happier and saner if Darksiders tried to murder Obi-Wan _slightly less often._

Obi-Wan, unfortunately, just seems to attract that kind of attention.

"Um," Bail says. "To clarify, when you said 'revenge' earlier, you meant you wanted to kill Obi-Wan?"

"That is what I said, Organa."

"Right. But now you're having some issues with that because you...care about Obi-Wan."

Maul growls. "If I murder him, I will never be able to see him smile again. That is unacceptable."

"Okay," Bail says. "Okay. So...what if, hypothetically, you _didn't_ murder Obi-Wan?"

"What?"

"I mean, if you try to murder Obi-Wan, one of you will probably die, or at least be very severely injured," Bail says. He has no idea how strong Maul is, but it seems reasonable to assume he's _pretty_ strong. "Both of those outcomes would upset Obi-Wan, and probably you."

"Yes, that does seem likely..." Maul says.

"But if you _don't_ murder Obi-Wan, and you continue to be friends with him, you'll have plenty of chances to make him smile and he'll be able to continue enjoying your company. Both of you get to be happy, and also alive," Bail says. "If you ask him nicely, he'll probably spar with you, too. I hear he's very good at that sort of thing."

"I see. So you're saying I should...court him?"

Bail pauses, because that's not what he was saying at all--not least of all because it's a terrible idea. But also, Maul already lives with Obi-Wan, has worn his clothes, eaten his food, and cooked for him. As far as 'courting' goes, there's not a lot Maul hasn't already done.

"Well," Bail says. "Maybe you should... _talk_ to him about your feelings, and figure things out from there."

Maul snarls. "I can't do that. I've slighted him already. If I am to court him, I have to do it properly."

Bail doesn't even want to know how Maul could have 'slighted' Obi-Wan. At least he doesn't seem fixated on murder anymore, though courting from Maul really doesn't sound like much of a step up.

"Then you can just apologize to him. I assure you, he won't be upset," Bail says. "But if you're really concerned about it, you could...get him a gift, or something."

"A gift?" Maul asks.

"Yes, a gift. Sometimes people give them to each other to show they care. It's a nice way to show you thought about Obi-Wan."

Maul straightens and sniffs. "Very well. I will court Kenobi and bring him an appropriate gift. Your insight has been very helpful, Organa--you will survive to live another day."

"Oh, wonderful," Bail says. "I like living."

"Good. Continue to do so--Kenobi would be upset if you died a horrible and bloody death," Maul says, as if _he_ isn't the most recent threat to Bail's life. He makes his way to the door. "You should get better security."

"I'll take it into consideration," Bail replies. "But next time you want to talk to me? Don't break into my apartment or my office or _anywhere else,_ since apparently I wasn't clear enough the last time. Send a message or something. Or _knock,_ for goodness' sake. And cool it with the death threats. I have enough to deal with."

"Fine. If something important happens, I will comm you," Maul says. He sweeps out of the office and the door slides shut behind him.

Bail takes a deep breath and straightens out his shirt. It's barely past midday and he's ready to go home.

It occurs to him then that if Maul is seriously going to _court_ Obi-Wan, he will end up having to spend a _lot_ more time with Maul just by association.

Bail puts his face in his hands. Why can't Obi-Wan have better taste in people?


	7. In Which Maul Solves One Problem By Causing Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan didn't ask for any of this, but he probably deserves it.

The most important part of a courting gift is presentation, so Maul makes sure to be appropriately dressed and put-together for the occasion. He even polishes his horns for what's probably the third time ever.

He pauses before keying in the passcode to Kenobi's quarters. It is early in the day--just after dawn--but already he can sense Kenobi inside, deeply focused on some kind of work, most likely related to the war as everything Kenobi does seems to be. Chances are, Kenobi has not slept more than a few hours last night, if at all.

It's only been three days since he left Kenobi's home. Kenobi should _not_ be up, much less working so soon after his injury and illness, but nobody ever accused Kenobi of having _sense._

Well, soon that won't matter. Kenobi will have plenty of time to rest once all of this is taken care of. Maul will make sure of it--just as soon as he succeeds in winning Kenobi over, first.

Maul takes a deep breath, then punches in the entry code. The door slides open with a swish, revealing Kenobi's tidy living space. It looks just the same as it had when Maul left, though that's only to be expected. It is not as if Kenobi is rash enough to take down all the new decorations and furniture simply because of a small slight--and even if he was, he certainly would not have the time to do so.

Maul enters, pausing by the windowsill to water Kenobi's little pudgy plant, then moves to the dining room where Kenobi is going over a datapad out of a stack of datapads. It looks like whatever he's working on, he's been at it for at least a few hours.

Kenobi glances up from his work. "Maul?" he says. "You're back."

Maul nods, takes two steps forward, and drops Sidious's corpse at Kenobi's feet.

Kenobi stares at it for a long moment.

"Is that the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine?" Kenobi asks in a slightly strangled voice.

"Yes."

Kenobi puts his datapad down. "Is that the _dead_ Supreme Chancellor Palpatine?"

Maul nods sharply. "Yes."

Kenobi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then says, "Okay. First: Why is Supreme Chancellor Palpatine dead? Second: Why did you bring a dead body into the house?"

"He is dead because I killed him, and--"

"You _murdered_ the Supreme Chancellor?" Kenobi yelps. "Maul, you--why would you _do_ that?"

Maul frowns. He's never going to be able to answer all these questions if Kenobi keeps interrupting him to ask more. "I killed him because he is unnecessarily prolonging the war, which causes you direct harm and undue stress and puts you at unacceptable risk of death. Now that he is dead, the war will end and you will be able to spend more time at home."

"Maul, that's--" Kenobi pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's not how wars work. Murdering the _Supreme Chancellor of the Republic_ doesn't make the war magically end, and even if it did, you can't just _murder_ your problems."

Maul crosses his arms. If anything, this extremely considerate gift seems to have made Kenobi _more_ distressed, not less. "Why are you upset, Kenobi? Is it not Jedi policy to strike down the Sith? I've graciously saved you the trouble and danger of having to do it yourself."

"The--" Kenobi looks up. "I beg your pardon? What does the Sith have anything to do with this?"

Maul gestures to Sidious's body. "The Sith Master. My understanding was you and your Council were searching for him."

Kenobi looks at him, then down at Sidious, then back up at him. He pushes his chair out. "You know what? It's too early in the morning for this. I'm going to make some tea. Do you want a cup?"

"Yes."

"Great. I'll get one for you. In the meantime, please move the Chancellor's body out of the kitchen. Put him in the fresher or something--just make sure he's out of sight of the windows so nobody can see him, and make sure he doesn't bleed on anything, or--"

"You're rambling again, Kenobi."

"I am?" Kenobi asks. "I am. I can't imagine why. It's not like my roommate just assassinated the most high-ranking governmental official in the Republic, who might also be a Sith Lord, and dropped his corpse on my kitchen floor."

"I can clean the floor," Maul offers, though he's not sure why he would need to. It's not like Sidious is leaking any bodily fluids at this point--Maul's not some kind of _amateur_.

"Great. Good. Wonderful," Kenobi says. "I'm just. I'm going to make that tea now."

Maul nods and grabs Sidious's corpse from the floor. Kenobi seems overly concerned about cleanliness, so Maul stashes Sidious in the shower in an undignified heap, which is really nothing more than he deserves for all the trouble he's caused.

Maul would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed killing his Master. The Jedi can say all they want about pacifism and valuing life, but he's a hunter--he's made of different stuff, and watching the light leave Sidious's eyes is the best he's felt in years.

When he returns to the kitchen, Kenobi has just finished boiling the water. Maul sits down at the table and accepts the offered tea. He's ambivalent about the taste of tea, but he appreciates the ritual and Kenobi making something specially for him makes something warm and fuzzy happen in his chest.

He sips it. It's aromatic and slightly sweet, which is interesting because Kenobi almost never drinks sweetened tea. Maybe he's in shock.

"Okay," Kenobi says, sitting down and pushing all his work to one side of the table. "Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. He's the Sith Master we've been searching for all these years?"

"Correct."

"Why...why do you say that? What reason do you have to believe he's the Sith Master?"

Maul pauses. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean,_ what's your rationalization? What's your proof that he's Sith, much less a Sith Lord?"

Maul frowns. "Why do I need proof?"

"Because murder is a serious crime! We can't just exjudicially execute people, Maul!" Kenobi says. "We certainly can't assassinate the single most powerful man in the Republic!"

"I don't see why not. I've assassinated plenty of officials with no problem."

Kenobi puts his face in his hands. "Please don't say that. Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm joking," Maul says, not joking.

Sullenly, Kenobi sips his tea. "For obvious reasons, I don't believe that, but I appreciate the effort." He puts his cup down. "Maul, we need proof he's a Sith because there's literally no other way we'll be able to get you out of this without sending you to prison. Even _with_ proof it'll be difficult to get you out of this because, and I emphasize this again, _you assassinated the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic._ What proof do you have that Palpatine is a Sith?"

"I don't have proof."

Kenobi scrubs his hand over his face. "You murdered him with _no proof?_ How could you _possibly_ know he's a Sith Lord, Maul?"

"Because I was his apprentice!"

An awkward silence follows.

"Shit," Maul says. "I wasn't supposed to say that."

Of all the things he _could_ have said, that's probably the worst--already, he can see everything crumbling down. He's doomed to never court Kenobi again, tripped at the first hurdle because he had to accidentally confess he was the mortal enemy of the Jedi. Maul gets up. "I'll just be leaving, then."

"Maul, sit down," Kenobi says tiredly.

Maul pauses. "Did you not hear me? I'm a Sith Apprentice. _The_ Sith Apprentice."

"Yes, darling, I heard you," Kenobi says. "Sit down, please. This conversation isn't over."

"You want me to _sit down?_ Kenobi, I am a _Sith assassin!_ I murdered Qui-Gon Jinn!"

"Yes. I already know that," Kenobi replies.

The world grinds to a halt. That shouldn't be possible--after everything Kenobi's done, there's no way he would do that with his Master's killer. A _Sith._

Maul makes a strangled sound from the back of his throat. "You...you already know?"

"That you're the Sith from Naboo who murdered my Master and whom I sliced in half? Yes, Maul. I already know that. I've known it for quite a while now."

"You've known this _whole time?_ "

"I wouldn't say I knew it the _whole_ time. But certainly by the time I brought you to the Halls of Healing." Kenobi sighs and sips his tea. "Maul, you're a Zabrak with a unique coloring and distinct tattoos. You are probably one of the most recognizable people in the entire galaxy. Did you seriously think I wouldn't recognize the man I cut in half ten years ago?"

"You knew I was your Master's killer and you _didn't say anything?_ "

"Well, you obviously didn't want to talk about it, despite my giving you the opportunity to do so," Kenobi says. "And it seems quite mean-spirited to bring up all the pain and suffering I caused you. You seemed willing to turn over a new leaf, and I respected that. Maul, please sit down."

Maul sits down. "So you don't...want revenge?"

"Darling, we literally already had this conversation weeks ago," Kenobi says. "Did you think I was lying when I said I didn't want revenge?"

"But I killed your Master. You loved him."

"Yes, I did. And yes, I was angry then, but I'm not angry about it anymore. Revenge won't bring him back and it certainly won't help either of us," Kenobi says. "That doesn't mean I necessarily forgive you for it, and it certainly doesn't make it _okay_ that you killed him. I'll always grieve his loss, but what's important now is not what happened in the past, but what you decide to do moving forward. If you want to be better and kinder, then I will do what I can to help you so other people don't suffer the same way I did. As long as you change your ways, there's no reason for quarrel between us."

Maul finds himself bereft of words. Eventually, he musters up a soft, "...oh."

"That's not important right now, though," Kenobi says. "What's important is the fact that we currently have Palpatine's corpse in the fresher and we have maybe two hours before his absence is noticed and investigations start going out. I really wish you'd _talked_ to me before assassinating him. Now, we've got a lot of work to do."

"What? What do you have to do?"

Kenobi pulls out his commlink and glances up. "The _cover story,_ Maul. So you don't get arrested for murdering the Supreme Chancellor." He punches in a comm code. "We're going to need help to pull this one off."

The commlink rings twice before the transmission opens.

"Bail?" Kenobi says. "Sorry to comm so early, but it's urgent. Are you busy today?"

 _"I have a meeting with the Chancellor this morning,"_ says Organa's voice through the transmission.

"Oh, good. That meeting's been deferred indefinitely. That means you're free all morning."

_"...Obi-Wan? Did something happen that I should know about?"_

"Yes, but it's good you haven't heard yet--it means we still have time." Kenobi grins. "How do you feel about some light treason?"

* * *

It's around 1030 when investigators arrive at Kenobi's home.

Kenobi answers the door. "Mace! How good to see you. How are you?"

The dark-skinned Korun in the doorway bows his head. "Hello, Obi-Wan. I'm doing well, but the circumstances right now could be better."

"Did something happen? I've been busy working on the Velos Sector reports all morning, I'm afraid, and you know how Master Che is when I'm recovering--I haven't really had the opportunity to check my commlink."

"The Supreme Chancellor has gone missing. We have reason to believe he's been assassinated," the Korun says.

"What? That's awful!" Kenobi says. "How can I help, Mace? I'm afraid there's not much I can do right now, but I'd like to help if I can."

"The main suspect right now is a red Zabrak with black tattoos and short crown horns. Have you seen anyone like that?"

Kenobi frowns. "Of course I have. He lives here."

The Korun makes a face like he's just bitten a lemon. "He...lives here."

"Yes, I can get him for you." Kenobi leans back and shouts, "Maul? Can you come over? There's someone at the door for you."

Obligingly, Maul walks over to the doorway.

"This is Jedi Master Mace Windu," Kenobi says. "He's a Councilor and the Head of the Order."

Maul bows. "Hello, Master Windu. I am Maul."

Windu looks at Maul, then back at Kenobi. "Obi-Wan, what is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, haven't you heard?" Kenobi asks with a completely straight face. "Maul is my new Padawan."

Windu mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, "Are you fucking kidding me?" then says, "Obi-Wan. Since _when_ have you had a new Padawan?"

"Since about a month ago, when Maul started living with me. You'll notice he had his medical records entered in the Temple archives around that time," Kenobi says. "I know I should have done the full ceremony, but with the war being the way it is, there wasn't exactly the time or the people available."

"Maul can't be a Padawan. He's clearly an adult. He's almost as old as you are," Windu points out.

"So? We're never too old to start learning, Mace," Kenobi replies blithely. "And we're a bit past the point of whether he can or cannot be a Padawan. He already _is_ my Padawan. I filed the paperwork and moved him into my Padawan suite and gave him silka beads and everything," he says, flicking the set of beads hanging down from one of Maul's horns. "And now you're accusing him of attacking the Chancellor? What's the basis for these claims?"

"Your... _Padawan_ was seen on camera leaving the Chancellor's office early this morning. There's obvious signs of an extremely violent encounter occurring in that office, including cuts from a lightsaber."

"That couldn't possibly be Maul. He doesn't have a lightsaber--we haven't had a chance to visit Ilum yet," Kenobi says. "Maul, did you visit the Chancellor's office this morning?"

"I did," Maul says.

"And what happened?" Kenobi asks.

"The Chancellor said he wanted to speak to me," Maul says, holding up his commlink with archived messages from Sidious--only half of which are fabricated. "So I visited him despite the late hour and he attacked me. He had a red lightsaber. I believe he was a Sith."

"A Sith!" Kenobi says. "Maul, why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"You were busy and needed to sleep," Maul says. "I know you were working all night."

"Still, Sith are serious business!" He looks back towards Windu. "I have to make sure my Padawan is okay. Maul, you're not hurt, are you?"

Windu looks extremely unimpressed. "Are you seriously trying to tell me your 'Padawan' was specifically targeted by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, found out he was actually a Sith Lord, and then managed to kill him in self-defense?"

"That seems to be what happened, Mace," Kenobi replies, his brows drawn together. "Certainly stranger things have occurred, and I trust Maul's account."

"So you think it's justified if your 'Padawan' murdered the Supreme Chancellor?"

"If he didn't want me to kill him, he should have been stronger," Maul says.

"It was self-defense, Mace," Kenobi says, speaking over him. "If Palpatine revealed to any of us that he was a Sith Lord, we would do the same."

"And it doesn't seem more likely that this is a flimsy cover story and your 'Padawan' is actually a Sith assassin?" Windu asks.

"Well," Kenobi says, "of course he's a Sith assassin, if by Sith assassin you mean someone who assassinates Sith. There's no point in arguing what did or didn't happen, Mace. You said the fight occurred in the Chancellor's office, right? There should be video footage of the whole thing."

"We don't have access to that," Windu says.

"Would a member of the Senate? Under circumstances as dire as the Chancellor's death, they should certainly be able to request that footage. I can talk to Bail and get this all cleared up."

Windu casts a long, unimpressed look at Maul. "Very well, Obi-Wan. The sooner we sort this out, the better."

"And if it turns out that Chancellor Palpatine really _was_ a Sith," Kenobi continues, "then as per ancient Jedi tradition, I think Maul should be Knighted."

Windu glares at him. "Don't push your fucking luck."

* * *

It takes two long and busy days of investigation to finally close the matter. Security footage does, in fact, corroborate Maul's story--Sidious had attacked on sight, throwing lightning and brandishing two blood-red lightsabers in clear view of the camera, certainly giving the appearance of an unprovoked attack. Further investigation into the Chancellor's security footage unearths concerning dealings implicating him in collusion with Separatist forces, which suddenly becomes much more important than the self-defense case of a Jedi Padawan.

"I hope you all learned an important lesson from this," Organa says, pouring a generous portion of brandy for the three of them.

"Talk to Kenobi about the cover story before committing an assassination?" Maul asks.

"Talk to the former Sith about the Sith Master who might be hiding in the Senate?" Kenobi asks.

Organa sighs deeply. "You're both terrible." He brings the glasses over to the sofa where Maul has draped himself over Kenobi's shoulder, then takes a seat on Kenobi's other side. "In any case, the evidence that the war has been fabricated by the Chancellor has made many people unhappy--peace talks might actually be possible now, especially with Mon as acting Chancellor. Count Dooku and Grievous and other Separatist forces are still a problem, but maybe it'll be easier to manage them now that they're not receiving insider information directly from Palpatine."

Kenobi takes a glass of brandy and kisses Organa on the cheek. "Thank you, dear. Maybe this war can finally come to an end, now. Something to hope for."

"It had better," Maul snarls. "If it goes on too long, I'll assassinate Dooku myself."

Kenobi sips his drink. "We _just_ talked about this, Maul. No more assassinations. We have enough problems right now without destabilizing more governments than we already have."

"It'll certainly take long enough to clean up everything involving Palpatine," Organa says, leaning against Kenobi's other shoulder. "I'm surprised you were able to get Master Windu to believe the story with Maul."

"Oh," Kenobi says, "there's absolutely no chance he believes me. But the point wasn't to get Mace to believe me, it was to make sure Maul didn't get taken in for assassinating Palpatine, which we managed to do. As long as the paperwork is all together and holds up under scrutiny, it doesn't matter how much he'll call me on my banthashit in private--we have, to use a crude phrase, covered our asses, so we'll be fine. Speaking of..." Kenobi raises his glass. "A toast for your new Knighthood, Maul."

The three of them clink glasses and drink. It's a rich-tasting brandy with some sweet undertones that are not at all unpleasant. Clearly, Organa had broken out the expensive bottle for the occasion.

"Do you have any plans now that you've been promoted?" Organa asks.

Maul grunts. "I think I will quit the Jedi Order immediately. The Jedi are...tolerable, but I will not make myself one of them."

"I see," Organa says. "Then what will you do moving forward? Since we've established that you will _not_ be assassinating anyone else?"

Maul thinks about it for a few moments, then says, "I think I will be your new security officer. Clearly, nobody else you've hired is up to the job."

Organa nearly spits out his drink. "My new-- Who decided this?"

"I did, just now," Maul says. "Your continued health is important to Kenobi's happiness, so I will make sure nobody assassinates you in your sleep."

"It's not the worst idea he's ever had," Kenobi points out. "Especially with the clones moving to the civilian sector soon. You could do with some protection, especially since you've made even more enemies in the last two days."

"And whose fault is that?" Organa asks. He shakes his head and drinks his drink. "Fine. I'll think about it. It'll be good to change out the old keypads anyways."

"You will need to do _much_ more than changing out your keypads if you want to keep someone from breaking in," Maul says. "But that is a conversation for a later date. Right now, I would like to rest. This bureaucracy nonsense is exhausting."

"You're not even the one dealing with it," Organa hisses.

"Bail, Maul," Kenobi says before they get at each other's throats again. "No fighting right now, okay? We've all had a long few days."

"Sorry," Maul says.

"Sorry," Organa echoes.

Kenobi smiles. It makes Maul's stomach flip, just as it always does. "Now that we've taken care of that, I wanted to give you something, Maul."

Maul's brows go up. "Oh?"

Kenobi fishes through his belt pouch and pulls out...two kyber crystals. They're clear and seem to glitter under the low light in Organa's apartment. "These are for you."

Maul takes them. "These are...Sidious's crystals?"

Kenobi nods. "The lightsaber casings were taken as evidence, but I was allowed to take the crystals and heal them--a difficult process, I assure you. You can see they're not bled anymore, but they don't react to me."

Maul looks at the crystals. He's suffered many times at the end of these blades, at the harsh and caustic power of Sidious's hatred. Even now, he feels echoes of the Darkness Sidious had inflicted on and channeled through the crystals, but there's something else, too. A sense of purpose and power. "You would trust me with these?"

"I think they're meant to go to you--you're the one who defeated him, after all, and you've certainly suffered more directly under him than many of us," Kenobi says. "And...I think the kyber would like a chance to be used for good, not evil. Moving on, just like you."

Maul looks at the two crystals, so small in the palm of his hand. There's something appealing about the idea of having a weapon--not just to kill, but to protect, too. He squeezes his fingers around them and feels the Force resonate through them. When he opens his hand, the crystals are soft gold.

"They've chosen you," Kenobi says softly. "Congratulations. Take care of them."

Maul nods, feeling the Force through the crystals pulsing in time with his two hearts, so much more _in sync_ than his old bled crystals had ever been, like an extension of himself. He wonders if all Jedi feel like this. "I will."

"Good," Kenobi says, pressing a gentle kiss to Maul's forehead. The beard scratches, a strange feeling he hadn't expected. "Then I think that's everything for tonight. Unless you have anything else to mention, Bail?"

Organa shakes his head. All three of them are tired after their recent trials. There's always more work to be done, but it can wait until tomorrow.

Maul curls up into Kenobi's side, nestling his head just under Kenobi's arm. It's warm and soft, so much nicer than what his life was like a month ago. It's a strange thought, that he can have this kind of warmth and comfort and companionship so easily now. Even Organa isn't too terrible to spend time with when he isn't complaining about death threats.

That's when Kenobi's commlink goes off.

 _"Obi-Wan?"_ says a frantic voice. _"What's going on? I just got back and the Chancellor's been killed and also people keep telling me I have a new Padawan-brother? I just went to your apartment and you're not there and it's all been redecorated and someone's been living here and--"_

"Shit," Kenobi says. "I knew I forgot something."

**Author's Note:**

> If you're enjoying the story feel free to comment! I always like to hear what people think :)
> 
> [I also have a Tumblr if you're into that sort of thing.](https://jessepinwheel.tumblr.com) Come and hang out or something.


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